


and I will shape my flame

by toba



Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Time Travel, Author Is Sleep Deprived, Azula (Avatar) Redemption, Badass Zuko (Avatar), Firelord Zuko (Avatar), Gen, Iroh (Avatar) is a Good Uncle, Ozai (Avatar) is an Asshole, Sweet Revenge, Time Travel, Time Travel Fix-It, What am I doing, Zuko is an Awkward Turtleduck, basically wise firelord zuko ends up back in time and fixes everything, best uncle iroh, but grown up Zuko is a fucking troll, but zuko puts him in his place, how else would he turn out smh he had iroh for an uncle, i dont know what im doing, im sorry did i mention uncle iroh is the best?, no you can't convince me otherwise, serious otherwise, someone send help please, sort of crack at some points, the tags are a mess, zuko raises azula right
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-27
Updated: 2020-07-21
Packaged: 2021-03-03 23:21:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 9,785
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24933679
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/toba/pseuds/toba
Summary: They say that Fire Lord Zuko is blessed of the flames.They say he is Agni's chosen.They say that he is the culmination of years of pain and tragedy,forged by the grace of the sun itself, for fire had destroyed enough in the hands of worthless disciples,because fire is life itself and the people had forgotten.Because when the Fire Nation was burning the world to hell,a lone prince of thirteen had stood his ground.They say that when Ozai had held his hands to his son,had tried to smother the child in flames, he would not burn.
Relationships: Aang & The Gaang (Avatar), Aang & Zuko (Avatar), Azula & Zuko (Avatar), Iroh & Zuko (Avatar), Katara & Zuko (Avatar), Sokka & Zuko (Avatar), The Gaang & Zuko (Avatar), Toph Beifong & Zuko, Zuko & The Fire Nation (Avatar), Zuko & Zuko's Crew (Avatar)
Comments: 162
Kudos: 2620
Collections: A:tla, The Best of Zuko, avatar tingz





	1. Chapter 1

Zuko stares at the mirror with muted horror.

There is a child he sees, a tiny boy standing dumbstruck.  
He has tiny hands,  
a stern slash for a mouth, which just doesn't fit the childish face.

Zuko is a Fire lord of many years.  
He has sat on the throne for decades.  
His hair now shines with streaks of gray.

But as he moves, so does the boy in the mirror.  
He does not see himself as he knows himself to be.

It can't be.

He inhales loudly as he glances at his hands, which are suddenly so tiny,  
and all the furniture is too large. The world is too large.

This boy, it just cannot be him.  
So why does Zuko look into the mirror and see him?

He blinks furiously and tries to steady himself,  
even as he flinches from the copious amounts of light reaching into his left eye,  
even as he reels from the sudden change in depth perception.

Even as sound suddenly surrounds him from all angles, not just his right,  
_and it just doesn't make sense._

He has no scar, he has no scar, he has no scar.

He is a boy again.

He wonders mutely if he's dreaming.  
But he hasn't dreamed of his childhood in years,  
_it is behind him._

Then why.

He stumbles away and out, away from the accursed mirror.

He hasn't been in this room for years.  
This is not his chamber.

It is the chamber he'd had years and years ago.

Zuko grabs the nearest vase and hurls it across the room.

The porcelain shatters and the noise thunders through the air.

The sound is altogether too raw, too real.  
A bolt of pain streaks through his head.

"Wake up, wake up, wake up, wake up." He hisses to himself, pulling at his hair roughly.

He ignores the sounds of a distant door opening.

"Oh, are you alright Zuzu?" 

Zuko freezes at the sound, that voice.

Azula laughs, voice filled with cruel mirth.

"Such a shame about mother, really, but it's been a week already since she left, surely you can't be so pathetic that you're still upset!"

Zuko doesn't reply.  
The words barely register, and he's far too busy staring at her with barely disguised shock.

He hasn't seen his sister is years,  
and even then she's long been presumed dead.

The last he remembers of her is a crazed, broken woman.

Not this, not this _child._

Good gods, she's even tinier than he is.

She stares at him vindictively, waiting for a reaction,  
then ultimately scoffs and leaves with a pointed sneer, as Zuko does not reply.  
He just, can't.

What is happening.

Zuko wonders if he's finally gone mad,  
it couldn't be that impossible could it? 

Maybe madness was something hereditary in their family.  
Frankly speaking, at this point, he wouldn't be surprised.

It's just, everything feels far too real.

But he's still inclined to believe this is some overtly realistic hallucination.

How could something like this even be possible?  
Is he in the past,  
because holy fuck.

He's never quite messed up this bad before but there was always a first time for everything wasn't there.  
And luck had always had it in for him.

Zuko walks to the nearest window shakily, staring at the rising sun.

There is a breath of power in the wind,  
a stillness in the current.

Did Zuko die? Did he come back in time?

Zuko inhales and exhales.  
In, out.  
He must have fucked up something in the spirit world.  
Or upset some spirit.

The sun heats his skin.

And Zuko swears he feels the heat coil around him,  
like something sentient, like something powerful.

Like the flames are calling for him.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Han jolts awake as footsteps echo down the prison hall.  
> The corridor outside is pitch black, until a soft glow appears from the corner.
> 
> Why would anyone be visiting him at the middle of the night.

Han watches cautiously as a figure draws close, carrying a dull lamp.  
The dim light illuminates practically nothing, barely bright enough to shed light for a few steps.

The man carrying it is completely hooded, his dark clothes shuffle noiselessly.

Who in the world would visit a lowly convict like him, that too in the middle of the night?  
Han is practically a nobody.

He was just some small time lieutenant working in an obscure squad.  
He has no notable allies, no one who might try to get him released.  
No one who would actually, give a single fuck about him.

The only one with authority, who might've cared, was their commander and he was well dead.  
And with him gone everything had fallen apart in their battalion.

He might have once considered his squad mates his friends, he might have trusted them once to guard his back,  
but now everyone is too busy watching out for themselves to even think about others.  
He isn't even going to try to delude himself by thinking that any of them would come for him.

A single face flashes through his mind but Han tries to ignore the thoughts attached to it.

Changqing isn't going to come for him.

After all he'd told Han exactly that, quite clearly, as they'd dragged him away.  
As Han had yelled at him, screaming for help.

And he'd just- _stood there, and sneered._

It's fine.  
It is alright.  
Han doesn't blame him.

(He tries not to feel betrayed, tries not to feel that sting in his chest-)

In these times, resistance was futile.   
Any sane soldier knew better than to try and test the higher-ups.  
It was only going to lead to imprisonment, or death.

Changqing was smart, and he knew when to cut his losses.

(Didn't change the fact that it tore at him, to know that he'd been abandoned by his best friend-)

But it is alright.  
It is alright.

Han is glad he's not, locked away like him, or worse, dead.  
He cares about him, still.

(Doesn't matter what happens he's always going to care about him.)

He's still safe.  
At least, as safe as one can be in the Fire Nation.  
He hopes.

(But Changqing doesn't care about him does he? Han isn't good enough for him.  
Han apparently means nothing more to him than a pawn to be tossed aside once its use is over.)

So there. Han is stuck here, to rot.  
With no one to help him out.

In fact, he's almost morbidly accepted the fact that he's going to spend the rest of his days watching the sun through a tiny barred window.  
Never to wield his fire ever again. Restricted by these godawful shackles.

But then, who is this person?  
Why has he come here to meet him?

The figure stops in front of his cell and it is only now that Han realizes how short the man is.   
He's so short Han can tell he's one of those unlucky dwarfs. The ones whose bodies never grow well.

"Wh-

He is cut off with an impatient hiss before he can even complete his first word.

Han watches bewildered as a thin arm shoots out from the folds of the cloak and the palm starts glowing and-

"Holy fuck."

He jumps back as the hand cuts through the prison bars as if they were made of butter, not industrial grade metal.

No.

Not cutting, _the hand melts through the metal._

He winces as the metal rods collapse to the floor with a deafening clang. Glowing red hot at the edges.

"Come on. Time to leave." An extremely soft voice mutters out quietly.

Now, Han has several questions.

He doesn't ask any of them because the man in front of him can melt through metal in seconds, and he doesn't really want to bother him or piss him off at the moment, since his hands are tied.

Especially because he's allowing him to escape the prison, and frankly he wants out.  
Its not exactly a hard decision.

Instead, Han narrows his eyes but silently holds out his arms, bounded by shackles.

With another large clang, the manacles fall to the ground, half melted.

Lovely, he thinks, feeling far more grounded with his hands free, his firebending back.

He wonders briefly why no guard has come to investigate the loud noises,  
but focuses more on following the figure, who's stalking out through the corridor.

They turn a corner and Han gets his answer.  
Two bodies lie slumped on the floor, unresponsive.

Right.

It's disarmingly easy to escape from the prison encampment,  
what with all the guards lying in heaps everywhere.

Han wonders if all of them are dead, or if they're unconscious. Maybe a mix of both?

Whoever this person is, its apparent that he's obnoxiously strong.  
And well prepared, he realizes, as they find a pair of mongoose lizard tied at a barn ten minutes off the prison,  
in the nearby port town.

Why would anyone so strong come for someone like him?  
Han's been trying to think of a reason, but he just can't seem to come up with anything concrete.

The only slightly plausible thing he's been able to come up with is that the man is a friend of his late commander, maybe?

He still doesn't speak though, quietly following the man with one of the mongoose lizards.  
This person has helped him so far, it couldn't hurt to follow him some more.

He's pretty sure he could've killed him while he was shackled anyway, but he didn't.  
So it's probably safe to assume that he doesn't want Han dead.

Whether he likes it or not,  
Han owes the man now.  
So it is only right that he at least tries to repay his debt.

Or not, he snorts inwardly, staring at the figure curiously.  
Truthfully, he just wants to know who he is.

Then get away.  
Because he is done with this rotten Nation.

And if things truly start going south, well,  
he's a nobody, but he's strong.

Perhaps not strong enough to melt metal, but enough to run, he thinks.

But before that, he really would like to know who this person is.

It's only after they've been riding for a while, passing the port town, does he cautiously speak.

"Who are you? Why did you help me out?"

The man exhales, taking his time, as if contemplating something.  
Then he reaches up and pulls back his hood.

Han blinks. Because- no-

what?

He is absolutely unprepared,  
to find a _kid_ looking back at him.

He's sure the shock is visible on his dumbstruck face as the boy huffs out an amused breath.

"Hello. My name is Zuko. You might have heard of me. Technically I'm a prince, son of Ozai, but, uh, you can call me by my name."  
He continues flippantly, in a very soft way.

Sure, a member of the royal family, no big deal, Han thinks sort of faintly.  
Moreover, it's a _child_ prince, of course.

Han jerks back in shock.

Then he falls off his fucking lizard.

The world tilts alarmingly and he gets a face full of dirt.

"Are you alright?"  
The child inquires hurriedly, as Han lies on the forest floor, winded.

Suddenly, the tone of his voice makes a whole lot of sense.  
The boy is a kid, his voice hasn't even cracked yet.

"Peachy." He manages, voice choked.

He stares at the apparent prince, as he brings his own lizard to a stop.

Is he serious?   
Is this some joke, and he overreacted?

If its a joke it's terrible because Han really isn't fond of Lord Ozai.

"So I'm really sorry to rush you but I need to get back to the palace before morning and I need to drop you off."

Han ignores the words, too busy staring, trying to get his head together.

A prince?

Prince Zuko?

Son of Lord Ozai, the one who's been running the military into the ground?

If he is, why in the world would he even do something like this?  
He could have had anyone thrown in and out of any prison with a single word couldn't he?  
Even more, even if he could, why would he bother with a nobody like himself?

But, apart from the obvious reasons for why it doesn't make any fucking sense,  
it still does sort of does make sense in a weird way.

Because this kid is far too strong.  
And there's no way any normal child would be this proficient at firebending.

With that inborn strength, it is highly plausible.  
He's heard enough stories regarding the strength of their royal family.  
From Fire Lord Azulon, to the Dragon of the West.

Ah fuck. He's not taking any chances.  
If he's a truly a prince and Han pisses him off,  
he would probably have to fight off the entire army.

And sadly, he cannot do that.

Han falls into a low bow, "Your Highness, I am in your debt."

"Alright no, let's not have any of that." The Prince mutters sighing,  
and Han has a split second to wonder what 'that' is supposed to refer to, when the boy grab his shoulders and pulls him up.

It doesn't work very well because the kid is tiny and almost half his size, but Han catches the sentiment and stands straight.

"I told you, just call me Zuko." The Prince gives him a slight curl of his lips, polite.

Han lets out a sort of disgruntled noise.  
Because sure, calling a Fire Nation Prince by his first name isn't going to get him killed or anything.

"It's fine really, I don't mind". Prince Zuko continues, voice mild.

How nice this midget prince seems to be.

Han's head is starting to throb now.  
What a mess.

He takes a deep breath and tries to digest the situation.  
But it's still so absurd that he can't stop himself from asking, speaking with a healthy does of confusion.

"Why would a prince do something like this?" 

Well..." The boy trails off.

Han meets his strangely iridescent eyes and holds his breath.  
The Prince isn't looking so polite anymore,

he doesn't have any expression at all, like a blank canvas.  
Its unsettling on a face that young.

And Han can't quite tell what he's thinking at all.

"Well, I need loyal men." The Prince finishes smoothly, and there's an edge of steel under his soft voice,  
and for a second, something dangerous flashes though his eyes, bright gold and glowing.

There's a crackle of-something powerful in the air.

Han stiffens up automatically, reacting to the scent of lightning in the air.

Good lord.

"Alright your highness, whatever you want." He ventures out carefully, because just for a second there he'd forgotten what this little boy had done.  
His power.  
Remembers glowing palms and melted metal.

All things aside, a kid he may be, but this Prince is something else.

Han can tell, as the very air hums with warning.  
He has to bide his time carefully, if he hopes to get away unscathed.

He'll play by the Prince's rules for now.

How did he even end up in a situation like this.

Prince Zuko gives him an amused smile. As if he can tell what Han is thinking.  
It's surprisingly feral.

"I'm sure you will do your best."

The words are ominous in a way few things have ever been.  
Han tries to figure out what the Prince means, as he follows him quietly.

Surely he knows Han isn't going to be loyal to him just in one day's work.  
Loyalty is hardly ever earned that easily.

So, why is he so confident that Han is going to work for him?  
That Han isn't going to betray him?

They make their way further inland and reach the inner city, making way through the backstreets, using the roads most frequently utilized by merchants for the transport of cargo.

The whole place makes Han nauseous.

This is practically the stronghold of the Fire Nation Army,   
this is the heart of the nation.  
he definitely does not want to be here, at all.

They come to a stop at a mansion in one of the upper class neighborhoods.  
The gates open swiftly to let them in, and close once they enter.

There is someone waiting for them near the well maintained courtyard.

Han takes one good look and freezes.

"I've got your friend, Advisor Wu." Prince Zuko speaks, dismounting.

It is him.

Sun Wu, courtesy name Changqing.  
His friend.

So, Changqing hadn't forgotten him after all.

And all of this, this arrangement with the prince,  
he's probably the one behind it all.

That explains why the prince, who doesn't even know him, helped him out of that place.

Han exhales, lungs fluttering.

There's relief in his chest, and Han feels weak from the sheer force of it.

He didn't mean those words after all.  
Those words, were lies.

"There you are." Changqing speaks nonchalantly, stepping forward.

Han looks at his serene face emotionless, and dismounts, hands itching.

Judging from the arrogant, smug look on the bastards face,  
he probably expects Han to be happy or something.

(He is, but Han isn't going to tell him that right away. Oh no, not so easily.)

He pulls back his hand and punches him in the face.  
There's a satisfying crack.

Changqing reels back, clearly not expecting the blow,  
clutching a bleeding nose.

"Han!" He growls.

Before he can say anything else, Han grabs him again and buries his face into his shoulder.

"You absolute asshole."   
He grits out, voice choked.

For months he's been stuck in that dump, thinking that he's been abandoned.  
Han would've appreciated some message, any message.

Just, anything to let him know that Changqing was coming for him.  
The last words he'd heard from him were literal poison.

They ate at him day in and day out and he hasn't had a proper nights rest in months.

He'd thought-

he'd thought he meant them.

Changqing sighs, but grabs on to him as well.  
His grip is just as strong as Han's.

"Touching really and I feel loathe to disturb, but it's going to be sunrise soon, and I've really got to go." A voice speaks, dryly.

"I'm grateful, your highness, I will never forget this kindness." Changqing breaks apart, kneeling.

After a second, Han follows suit.

This Prince has clearly helped Changqing,  
for what reason, he does not know,  
but it must be something important.

Changqing must have promised something big,  
and he isn't going to endanger his life by picking a fight with the Prince.

Suddenly, the words Prince Zuko had spoken earlier,  
now make a lot of sense.

There's no way he's going to upset him when Changqing is the one on the line.

"Good day Advisor Wu, I'll be seeing you soon." Prince Zuko agrees solemnly, smiles and leaves.

His eyes glint with amusement as he levels Han with one final look before disappearing.

"What did you do?" Han hisses at Changqing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sleep deprived and literally ruining by own life, but fandom, here we are.
> 
> So, a sort of weird chapter, introducing two OC's.
> 
> Now, I normally do not include OC's in fics until absolutely necessary, but here it sort of was.  
> I'm sort of going a bit into detail about how Zuko changes things.  
> And for that, he's going to have people working for him.  
> (People loyal to just him sort of thing, like undercover agents, or just influential figures)
> 
> I haven't put them in, to deviate from the plot or anything,  
> only added them to support the plot.
> 
> And i dont like empty characters in my fics, so obviously theyre going to have a bit of a solid backstory.
> 
> About the courtesy name thing, its a custom from the east, you can check it out on the net I guess.  
> A warning though, I know that theres a possibility i mightve fucked up some cultural norms, i hope not, i definitely did not intend to,  
> and tried my level best,  
> if i truly have made some really stupid mistake, chinese readers call me out.
> 
> Also, probably a lot of you might get where i borrowed the name of Sun Wu, "Changqing" from.
> 
> So yeah, this story is going to work in a different sort of way I suppose.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Azula knows people.  
> She knows how to twist them, to control them.
> 
> The trick is fear.
> 
> (Till it might not be.)

Azulon, the old Fire Lord is dead.

Ozai has been declared Fire Lord and Azula can't possibly be any happier.

Oh she very well knows how the late Fire Lord died, but its apt of course,  
her father would be a way better Fire Lord than her stupid uncle anyway.  
Her uncle, who's brought shame upon them all by the events at Ba Sing Se.

Even mother is gone, and-  
good riddance, is all Azula can think, vehement.

Mother was weak, far too emotional, and honestly,  
nothing but a sorry piece of baggage for the royal family.

Now, if only she'd taken along her useless son.  
Things would have been perfect.

Never mind then, things can't always be perfect.  
She's going to take care of that nuisance herself.

Speaking of which, the highlights of Azula's days now are composed entirely of ruining Zuko's life.

She likes watching the helplessness in his eyes when he realizes,  
that with Ursa gone, no one will ever pay attention to him anymore.

Serves him right.

A useless, slow and weak idiot like him,  
he doesn't deserve the things he's been given.

Azula is magnificent, powerful,  
she's been spectacular since birth.

There's absolutely nothing that Zuko can do and she cannot.

And yet, yet,  
_she was always inferior in their mother's eyes._

It boils her blood.

What is so special about her brother,  
so special that Ursa never had time for her daughter?

Azula deserves to be fawned over.  
She's not like everyone else, she's superior.

She deserves, _everything_.

Their mother should have fawned over her instead.  
Should've favored her instead.

It's the logical choice.

(Irrational, their mother was irrational. To choose something defective over something perfect, what else was she but mad?)

Its the rule of nature,  
whoever is strongest, wins.

If mother been smart enough to do that, to let Zuko die,  
maybe she'd have still lived as Fire Lady today,  
instead of being forced to run,  
like some run of the mill convict.

Azula isn't unreasonable.

As long as people around her, know their place,  
she doesn't really have any reason to be malevolent.

But, that's the thing isn't it?

The vermin that surrounds her, they don't show her the respect she deserves.  
She has no choice but to put them in their place.

Taking the case of their sad little mother itself.  
If only she'd been devoted to her instead,

Azula would have allowed her a comfortable existence in the palace when she took over as Fire Lord.

But, Azula has started to learn.  
She's come to realize, that people don't know their place in the world, or if they do, they ignore it.

The only right weaklings have, is the right to be suppressed.

They have no choice but to bow down to the strong.

And any sane human can tell that Azula's the strongest of them all. She was born blessed, born supreme.  
It's only a matter of time until she comes to power.

Father is, admittedly, strong too, but very soon, Azula will be better.  
It's going to happen, Azula knows it in her bones,  
and she's never been wrong yet.

(Mother didn't love her, but mother doesn't count. Mother is a lunatic.)

So everyone should kneel under her.  
But they don't, and Azula will make them.

No matter who it is that stands in her way, she'll destroy them.

Everyone is so unreasonable. So she'll teach them all.

Seriously, how hard is it for weaklings to bow down to their superiors?

Starting off, she thinks, hissing inwardly,  
with her stupid Zuzu.

He should just save her the trouble and kill himself,  
since she's clearly the one who's going to be Fire Lord.

He's standing near the pond, wasting time feeding the useless creatures,  
the turtleducks, again.  
Standing in front of her eyes, spirits, what an eyesore.

What nerve.

The past week, he's almost wisely made himself scarce,  
never to stumble upon her,  
and fair enough, he probably knows Azula will most definitely ruin him whichever chance he gets

Especially now that his protection blanket is gone.

She'd almost hoped that he would've taken the hint, and left forever.

They could've written him off as missing, and then dead,  
and Azula would never have bothered with him so long as he'd have kept his head down.

She's made all of this clear by now, she thinks.  
How dull is he that he never gets the hint?  
Pathetic.

She hisses with suppressed rage.

Azula raises her hand and falls into form.

The resulting fireball heads straight for the useless creatures flapping in the shallow waters,  
savagely fighting around for crumbs of bread.

Zuko raises his head, and Azula smirks as he freezes.

Probably scared to death.

The fire dissipates in one quick slash,  
fluid movement of an arm.

Azula inhales, sharply.  
No, how did he-

Brilliant gold eyes meet her own,  
and-

there's no fear in them.

Azula knows people,  
she knows how to twist them, how to use them.  
How to control them.

The trick is fear.

Fear is the most visceral of all emotions, it it the only useful emotion,  
it helps keep people in line.

But the fear is gone-  
and it _can't be_.

Any person she's every subdued, they all carry the scent of fear with them,  
the fear that flashes through their eyes at the presence of her majestic blue flames.

How can it be gone.  
What could possibly be enough to make him lose his fear of her.

Nothing should be capable of it.

How can he dare look at her,  
how can his eyes be so clear, so steady.

Something menacing fills her chest.  
She feels her stomach drop.

Azula feels sickened.

"Azula." He speaks, and she feels the urge to vomit.

"Zuko. Oh how you sicken me, dear brother."  
She hisses vitriol at his face and leaves.

(She feels far too queasy. But _Azula doesn't just get sick like that._ )

There is rage in her gait, and she can't quite fathom what has unhinged her so much,  
and it makes her grit her teeth.

Later, she will deal with him some other day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To be very honest, Azula might be one of the trickiest characters I've ever written about.
> 
> She's so intriguing.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Inception,
> 
> the story of the pearl-handled dagger.

Zuko has pretty much been avoiding Azula like the plague ever since he's come back.

Like what else is he supposed to do.  
Looking at her creeps him out and gives him anxiety, whenever he's unfortunate enough to run into her that is.  
Because she obviously hates him, just like the usual.

Now that's always a constant.

Yesterday he'd been feeding the turtle ducks when she'd stalked by, straight up launching a fireball at him.  
Yeah, what a nice greeting.

Though surprisingly after that, she'd stomped off with a relatively mild monologue of, 'Zuko, you sicken me'.

Though to be fair, he's also been avoiding, everyone else.  
Not just her.

It's hard enough dealing with things considering he's back to being ten years old.

Everything is so big, he has both eyes, his depth perception is shot and he keeps feeling like he's going to fall over,  
yet on top of that, half the people he's surrounded by are supposed to be dead, or imprisoned.

Or just, not supposed to be here.

What makes him feel even more wretched is that,  
even though he's back, back to his childhood,  
he's still late.

Because mother is already gone, and Lu Ten is dead, gone for a good month.

He'd arrived back here right after she'd left and Ozai became Fire Lord.

If only he'd arrived just a little earlier.  
If only.

It stings, but there's nothing he can do about those things, but what he can still do,  
is change other things still.

He's going to make sure Aang doesn't have that hard of a time now, when he wakes up of course.

Thus he's been making a few trips here and there.

Breaking good people out of prison, reviewing the court databases, etc, etc.  
Normal stuff, for a Fire Lord that is.

And Zuko is one, no matter if he's stuck in the body of a ten year old.

He's going to protect his people from this stupid war, from Ozai's stupid reign.   
Unlike last time, he's going to be way more efficient.

Sure, it's probably going to take a while before he can take back his throne properly,  
but he knows how to handle it.

Originally, after he'd been crowned Fire Lord,  
Zuko had had to spend a solid bunch of years just to identify the bad eggs in the Fire Court.

It had not been fun.

The people in power, from most of the military powerheads, to high ranking ministers and scholars.  
They weren't exactly happy to serve a kid, especially because the kid stood completely against what they all wanted.

(Weren't happy was quite frankly, an understatement. Trying to assassinate him every other week was more accurate.)

Within a hundred years of war, of course the families that supported warmongering and believed in conquest had come into power.  
The court was rotten, inside out.

Even after he'd identified the problematic people, it had taken a couple of years more to get rid of most of them.  
Due to how much power and influence they still held.

(Beating them up was unfortunately not an option in the new time of peace.)

Zuko had never been good at the subtle art which was politics. That was why he'd struggled so much back then.  
Yet, that didn't mean he didn't have the capacity to learn.

And learn he did.  
Brutally, painstakingly,   
but he did learn.

Truth be told, as much as the years during his childhood had been terrible,  
the years after the war, hadn't been much easier at all.

Those years had chaffed him raw, mentally.

He'd had to deal with not only outside threats, a world which had a lot of people that wanted revenge,  
but also a lot of his own people.

Brainwashed by the ideal of 'Fire Nation Supremacy'.

Nope. He's not having any of that this time around.  
Zuko's going to take over the Fire Nation Court a lot sooner.

And he's going to try and prevent the worst of the bloodshed.  
He's already found some really resourceful, good people to begin.

Speaking of good people, Uncle Iroh is still alive.

Oh god.

Zuko would have been overjoyed if he weren't so queasy.

He gets to see him again.  
He gets to see him alive, to hear his voice again, to feel his presence.

But,

what if Uncle Iroh doesn't like him this time around.  
What if this time, something changes, and he hates Zuko.

After all, it's no secret Ozai stole the throne.

Zuko really doesn't know why uncle didn't hate him the first time around.  
It should have been logical to dislike Ozai's family.

He's probably suffering so very terribly right now.

Lu Ten has only just recently died.

And then he's being shamed by the entire nation for retreating,  
for stopping the siege on Ba Sing Se.

It's horrifying.  
This whole mess.

Zuko hopes his entourage returns home soon.

He's going to take care of his uncle this time,  
he's not going to be the idiot he was last time.

He stalks back to his room after another day spent hiding from most of his tutors.

He can live without their bullshit training.

Constant punishments and a terrible form of firebending,  
altogether too dependent on rage, anger and a terrible mindset of 'fire the superior element'.

Altogether too focused on the destructive power of fire.

The flames whisper to him, they hiss.

They are meant to represent life, energy,

not destruction,

That's not what fire is supposed to be.  
That is not what Agni wants it to be.

All the good teachers in the palace had been sent away years ago, he thinks,  
replaced by ones which were liked by the darling 'Azula'.

These teachers were just another facet of his terrible childhood.  
He can live without them.

Of course, they're going to complain to Ozai soon enough,  
but they would've complained even if he had been there.

No matter how good he does it will never be enough, because his flames aren't blue.

Prince Zuko, the weakling.  
'His fire doesn't have the spark, Lord Ozai! It's disgraceful.'

Yeah, sure.

He sullenly enters his room and-

ducks.

Azula smirks at him, hand on fire.

Oh, joy.

His sister again.

Honestly, Zuko knows he needs to do something about her as well,  
and he doesn't even truly hate her.

He pities her, and he regrets what she'd had to go through.  
Pities the fact that Ozai had raised her.

(Pities the fact that his mother had been _his_ mother but never _hers_. She never truly had anyone.)

But, he still doesn't know how he's supposed to deal with her.

Even now, she's already so vindictive, already so much like Ozai,  
what's he even supposed to do.

"Hey there, Zuzu."  
She twirls a very familiar dagger in her hand.

It's the one Uncle Iroh gifted to him.

"Give that back Azula." Zuko sighs in consternation.

"Take it back yourself."

"Azula give it back or I-

"You'll what Zuko. You'll tell _dear mother_? Who's gone?"  
She sneers at him.

There's something in the way she says mother, thats reminiscent of the way he thinks 'father'.

Does she truly hate Ursa that much?

Considering the fact that she'd tried to kill their mother the last time, yeah,  
he supposes it does make sense.

Azula keeps spinning the knife, face twisted.

Her eyes already look hysterical to him.  
How can she dislike him this much, what did he ever do to her?

As a child, the largest emotion he'd ever felt for his sister was always fear.  
He'd never viewed her without being frightened of her, sick of her, annoyed with her.

Now, that's obviously changed.

He doesn't fear her anymore, and thus when he looks at her he truly sees her, 

and she's just damaged.  
And he feels pity.

She's so small, yet so twisted.

"Nevermind, you should keep it." Zuko replies softly.  
She can have it if she wants it that much.

Azula stops the spinning, and her face contorts into an expression vaguely reminiscent of the one he'd seen on her face when she'd dueled him in an Agni Kai, age sixteen.  
It's not a good look.

"Are you trying to mock me, Zuzu." She speaks lowly, eyes glittering with malice.

Of course she'd take it the wrong way.

"That dagger is important to me. It was a gift from Uncle Iroh.   
I like it a lot and don't want to lose it. But, if you like it so much, you can have it." He speaks slowly, trying to phrase his words carefully.

With a sharp swish, Azula hurls the dagger at him.

Zuko ducks and retreats, he does not want to fight.

But the one he's facing is Azula,   
and of course she's going to come after him.

"Do you think I'm like you?! Incompetent at firebending? I don't need any knife, any sword, any weapon to win!" She hisses, shooting her blue flames at him.

There goes the carpet,   
and the curtains.

Zuko sidesteps her attacks and blocks her punch, frowning.

"If you don't want the knife why are you here, trying to take it." He asks calmly.

"You don't deserve it that's why! You're inferior to me! And that senile uncle of ours sends you a battle grade knife, and humiliates me with some doll!" Azula snarls at him, eyes maniacal,  
twisting around to kick him.

So, she's upset that Uncle Iroh sent him a knife and her a doll?

In hindsight, considering the sort of person she is, Azula does deserve a knife.  
There's no way someone like her likes toys.

He knows uncle meant well, but phew, that gift might've been in bad taste.

Zuko bends and crouches, dodging the kick.

"You're right. Uncle Iroh was wrong." He begins.

Azula stops mid-jump, glaring at him. "Nice of you to realize your place, Zuzu. You've always been inferior to me! It doesn't matter if you were born first!"

No, that's not... what he meant.

"I'm not inferior to you. What I'm trying to say is that yes, sending you a doll was a bit in bad taste. But, uncle wasn't trying to demean you by doing that. He must've thought you would've liked a doll better. Next time you meet him tell him you don't like dolls, he won't forget." Zuko continues, voice calm.

"Tell him? What a terrible excuse! If he knew me at all he would've known!" Azula screams at him in rage.

And that-

does make sense.

It does make sense, in a horrible sort of way.

Zuko digests this weird revelation as he dodges her angry attacks.

Maybe Azula isn't upset about the doll. She's upset at their uncle in general.  
The uncle who sent Zuko something he clearly liked, but sent her something, which doesn't suit her at all.

Zuko takes a deep breath and exhales,  
curling around her in two quick jumps and grabbing both her arms.

"Let go of me!" Azula screeches, trying to fold her knees and kick him.

Zuko crouches down and pulls her along, preventing her from making the move.

"Stop it." Zuko snarls at her.

She mustn't have expected him to stand up for himself, or actually manage to hold her down,  
so she stares at him with narrowed eyes, shocked and enraged.

But, at least she stops yelling.

"Uncle Iroh does mess up gifts okay? Don't be mad at him for it." Zuko begins.

"You think I'm stupid-

"Because, I like dolls more than knives." Zuko interrupts her with a straight face.

Azula stares at him like he's grown five heads.

"I'm pretty sure I've even told him that at one point, but he clearly forgot."

She keeps staring at him, dumbstruck.

Zuko relates to her expression, because wow he never knew he liked dolls either.  
But he's already committed to this.

"I've never been able to play with them of course, because I'm a boy and no one would give me one." Zuko continues, absolutely poker faced.  
It takes an insane amount of effort not to let his lips twitch.

Azula is too stupefied to reply, completely aghast.

"So how about, we exchange the gifts? You take the knife, give me the doll? Better for both of us that way?" Zuko finishes speaking, voice as serious as a rock.

Azula stares at him for one long minute.  
Then she gives him a loathsome sneer. 

Okay, fair, he might've went overboard.  
But, she's stopped trying to fight at least.

He lets go off her hands.  
She doesn't try to attack him, 

yet.

"I burned the doll."  
She rolls her eyes, and its frankly amazing how she manages to make that look so judgmental and demeaning at the same time.

"Ah." Zuko replies.

A bit of stony silence.

"That's alright? You can have the knife?" He tries.

She gives him another magnificent sneer and storms off.

That, went well.   
Maybe?

Zuko goes and removes the dagger from the wall, where its stuck.  
He'll give it to her later, he supposes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've always thought Azula never understood the concept of love, friendship etc because she never experienced it herself.  
> Like, Ozai didn't love her at all.
> 
> She probably doesnt even know what it is.
> 
> And no matter what Ursa said about loving her, I think she severely neglected her daughter.  
> She never truly loved her daughter.
> 
> To a child, I think the most important people from the beginning are the parents,  
> and all she ever got from her mother was neglect, while her crazy father screwed up her morals and common sense.
> 
> Sure, maybe she was a more destructive child than Zuko by nature, but that doesn't mean her mother should've labelled her as a freak and given up on her like????? You can still teach her ma'am.
> 
> As for Iroh, I think he wasn't around when Azula or Zuko were small to act as a role model for them, I mean at that point, he himself was still leading most of the fire nation troops, and hadn't undergone the transformation that made him shift his world view.
> 
> So yeah, as a kid, Zuko managed to have at least one normal adult, giving him good values while Azula didnt.
> 
> And I mean, by the time Iroh returned, Azula was already too far twisted to ever learn anything from him.  
> Whereas Zuko probably still respected him, cuz you know, he was raised by a sort of good woman?
> 
> Then after the Agni Kai, it was pretty obvioud Zuko needed his support more than anything he could ever do for Azula.
> 
> So that's my rough theory on the relationships Azula had with people I guess.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A little kindness, goes a long way.

Uboshi ignores the sting in her arms as she pulls up a bucket of icy cold water.

Her hands are already cracked and bleeding, ugly,  
but she can't possibly care less.

She's lucky enough to have a job and that's quite frankly all that matters.

She drags the water to the side kitchens, staring wistfully at the warm hearth in the room.

It's so cold everywhere, but this place is always warm. Most of the kitchens are always warm.  
The ovens and furnaces keep blazing day and night.

This year the winter is particularly harsh.  
Uboshi can't quite remember being this cold, ever.

Of course, the Fire Nation is indeed warm for most of the year,  
but winter does pay a fleeting visit for two or three months each year.

They don't get any snow, but the wind is so sharp and icy.

Everything is far too cold for touch.  
She doesn't like it.

It's alright, manageable, for those who can afford to bundle up.  
Who can take their lives slow and spend their winters soaking heat from giant furnaces.

Uboshi is a poor, lowly peasant. It wouldn't be wrong to say that all she has are the clothes on her back. 

She has one scrappy piece of clothing that can barely be called a jacket.  
She has to make do with it.

There are some extra shawls and scarves back home,   
but her mother is frail and weak, her brother young and fragile,  
they need them far more than she ever could.

"Go on, don't just stand there, get going. Make sure you sweep the mess hall near the southern courtyard before the guards enter for their morning meal."  
One of the cooks waves at her, harried.

Uboshi leaves quickly, before anyone can get upset at her.

Some of the elder servants are, hardly accommodating to say in the least.

She grabs a broom and a pail of water, rushing across the cold grounds.

It is still dark outside, the sun not yet up.  
There is quite some time still, for the beginning of the meals,  
but she doesn't dally.

Her breath mists in the cold air, as she steps up the stairs.

Uboshi arrives at the hall, quickly bowing to the guards stationed at the doors,  
then hurrying in.

She'd received enough warnings from the other girls about being careful around the guards.  
They were easy to rage, and nasty if upset.

Some of the servants sweeping inside offer her small smiles as she joins them.

Most of the other girls are very polite,  
they go about their work calmly, disturb no one.

Uboshi likes them.  
They took her in when she arrived, offering her small words of advice,  
helping her get used to things.

"Can you help me set up the furnace?" A voice inquires.

Uboshi looks up to find one of the girls standing nearby.  
She doesn't quite remember her name, but doesn't mind helping.

They are the last ones to leave as they pile up the wood, ready to be set alight.

The sky is streaked with light as they walk out,  
carefully avoiding the guards striding into the hall.

Many of them talk in rough voices,  
shoving each other, laughing gravely, or arguing.

They are ignored, for the most part,  
until they aren't.

Even as they stick to the sides and try to leave, a pair of guards block their path.

"Oh look, such pretty faces." One of them leers at them, bending forward.

The girl beside her freezes but manages to speak, "Please let us be, we have work to do."

It's the wrong thing to say Uboshi realizes, as his face twists.

"Think you're too important or something, you wretches? Talking back to us?"

Uboshi feels sick to her stomach, as they crowd them in.

Pathetic.   
This is what has become of their guards, the warriors of their nation.  
Miserable, disrespectful men.

"Please get out of the way." She speaks, firm and placating, pressing close to her friend, pushing her back.

"Mouthy for a whore aren't you?" One of them sneers as the other reaches for her-

"Move or I'll report you both and this squadron to Captain Xiaojing. I know him, personally." 

Uboshi does not raise her voice, speaks calmly.

The guards stall, and back off, scowling.

She can tell their debating whether or not to push it.  
That they're trying to see whether or not she's serious.

But she is, she is.  
She knows him.

It is no empty threat to invoke that name.

He's one of the most beloved soldiers of the Nation, even after his demotions.

He's known for protecting people,  
even the poor, even the unfortunate, not just royalty. 

He's known to be just.  
He's a real soldier.

If complaints about soldiers reach him, whether from his squadron, or not,  
he see's them through.

If she goes to him, they will be thrown out of the guard.

They can't mess around.  
So they hang back, wary.

She takes advantage of their hesitance.

Uboshi hurries away, moving after her friend.

"No one's going to say anything to the captain if something happens to you, little miss."  
A voice spits out vitriol at her retreating back.

Her blood runs cold.

Uboshi turns her head to look back,  
the guards stare at her with vicious smiles.

"You shouldn't talk of him here. He may be a captain all right, but he's not our captain."

There is rage in their eyes, rage at her for speaking back,  
rage at not getting their way.

She does not cower, staring them down with a curl of her lips, defiant.

"You're just begging for it aren't you, you miserable wrench?" One of them snarls at her.

She sets her mouth, turns and hurries away, dread lining the pit of her stomach.

Captain Xiaojing is in the Capital,  
but he's at the northern courtyard, on active duty.

There's no way she can send a message today itself,   
and even if she did he might very well be too busy to check his personal mail.

There's no one here at the southern courtyard she can talk to.

Harassment and such,  
these are common things.

As the lowest of maidservants, their dignity is nonexistent.

If guards want to mess around, who are they to stop them?

All they are expected to do,  
is keep heads down,  
and suffer if need be.

Uboshi can't do this.

She can't just wait around for one of them to come along and mess with her.  
All it would take is one small moment of distraction, to be caught alone,  
and she'd be in danger.

But what can she do?  
What is she supposed to do?  
Surely something, surely something needs to be done?

This isn't right. It isn't.

She sticks close to others as she completes her work,  
vigilant.

She knows the guards very well might just have been bluffing,   
but she just-

she can't risk it in the off chance he was serious.

She tries her best to stay away from the barracks, working in the kitchens and bathhouses.

In the end, after the sun sets,  
as the sky turns violet and the winds grow sharp,  
she returns to the kitchens for some scraps of food-

and stops.

There's a lieutenant talking to the head cook,  
and both the men who leered at her this morning stand behind him.

Uboshi doesn't wait a second longer,  
she turns around and immediately sprints away. 

She has no doubt whatsoever that the head cook couldn't give less of a damn about her if she tried.  
There's no way she would protect Uboshi.

Uboshi flits through the dark corridors,  
away, away.

She knows, she knows they'll be waiting for her at the servants quarters.

She knows that if she goes back she's done for.

Uboshi won't.  
She will not go back.

She takes the most deserted corridors and runs as fast as she can.

She needs to find a place to hide before news spreads about a wayward maidservant.

It happens often enough. Servants being punished for resisting. For speaking against authority.  
She's seen it happen before,  
it's horrible.

Either she'll end up broken and disgraced, mutilated or dead.

She refuses to let that happen.

Uboshi will hide till the morning,  
once the supply carts start arriving,   
it'll be her chance to leave the Palace.

She hides in the shadows,  
carefully creeping past guard patrols.

There's only so long she can flit around buildings before she's caught.

Uboshi turns and makes her way to the gardens,  
in the day, hiding there would have been impossible,  
but she has enough cover under the darkness.

She's breathing harshly as she makes her way deeper into the maze of well maintained plants and trees.

There are no patrols here.

But she doesn't dare stop,  
the further she gets away, the better.

The night has only just begun and it's just,  
so cold.

Uboshi can't feel her hands,  
she's shivering all over,  
and its just so freezing, her lungs burn.

She can't stop walking now,  
if she does, she'll lose the last of the warmth in her body.

The moon creeps across the sky as she keeps moving,  
one step after the other.

Again, and again.

She slips into a dull stupor and realizes just how much trouble she's in.

If anything happens to her, her mother and little brother will starve to death.

Father is gone-  
and she promised him.  
She promised him she would take care of them.

She collapses against a tree,  
shaking.

It's too cold.

Uboshi failed him.  
How is she going to take care of them without a job?  
If she's dead?

Even if she does manage to escape the Palace compound, which is unlikely, at best,  
it will take weeks to find work.

The meagre amount of coin she's saved up and sent home would barely suffice for a week more.

She can starve it's fine,  
but her family can't.

Her mother is already sick, wasted away from the shock of their father's death.  
Her brother is but barely four summers old.

Whats the solution?  
What can she do?

Even now, she doesn't even think she can make it to see the sun rise.

Is she just supposed to die like this, cold and miserable?  
Without ever seeing this spirits damned war's end?

Without living a good life, a life with dignity, like she'd promised father?

She chokes out a sob and closes her eyes.  
She's so tired.

So tired of this injustice.

Something shakes her shoulder.

Uboshi snaps open her eyes and flinches back,

no-

A voice reaches her ears but she can't make any meaning out of it.

She flails, lashing out.

Hands grab her own, and warmth explodes around her.

Her hands, cold, raw and burning,  
twitch in relief, as warm fingers thread through her own.

She can breathe easier now, when the cold isn't clouding her thoughts,  
isn't dragging her under.

"I'm not going to hurt you." She finally understands the words being spoken to her.

"Calm down, please. It's alright, I wont hurt you." The words continue in a stream,  
calm and reassuring.

There's a boy crouched in front of her.

It's too dark for her to see his features,  
but he's very young, she can tell by his voice.

"Please calm down, tell me whats wrong, I can help, I promise." He continues, voice soft.

He's doing something, he's firebending but there are no flames, only warmth.

"I need to get away. There are guards after me, please, you have to help me!"  
Uboshi begins, voice hoarse.

She moves up, tries to stand.

Arms hook under her own, helping her up.

"Come on, calm down, you can come with me."

The boy guides her across the gardens in the dark,  
she doesn't know how he can see anything,  
but she doesn't question it.

She feels like she might very well have frozen to death if this boy hadn't found her.  
She's not in a position to be anything but grateful to this stranger.

After a long walk,  
Uboshi startles as he guides her towards a large structure.

She doesn't know where they are, she'd lost her bearings long ago,  
but judging from the lack of torches on the wall, it doesn't seem like the southern courtyard.

Everything is quiet around here, the silence well maintained.

The boy leads her through a corridor, and finally through a large door.  
Warm air envelops her and she sighs.

She's too tired to question where they are as she gets to sit near a large steady fireplace.

In the light of the flickering flames, she finally gets to look at the boy.

He's decked in resplendent silk, hair pulled up into a well crafted tail,  
a solid gold ornament gracing the knot. Face childish, but serious.

Uboshi feels the air go out of her lungs.

It's the crown prince.  
This place, it's the eastern courtyard, home to the royal family.

She flings herself onto the carpet, head touching the ground.  
All of the sense of security and relief disappearing in a flash,  
replaced by horror and fear.

She hadn't recognized him, hadn't addressed him with the proper respect,  
had ran from the soldiers of his kingdom, and told him about that like a fool.

She's going to die now.

Most definitely.

"Forgive me your highness, I-

"Calm down." The boy cuts her off, sighing.

Uboshi holds her tongue, too scared to speak.

"Please get up."

She doesn't dare rise.

"Oh for spirit's sake." 

Hands grab her shoulders gently and pull her up.

Uboshi looks into solid gold eyes,  
swallowing hard.

"I swear on Agni's flames, I won't hurt you. I'm not upset at you. Please calm down."

Uboshi stares into his magnificent eyes,  
speechless.

Agni's name isn't one thrown around casually in the Fire Nation.  
He is their patron spirit, the source of their power.

One does not make promises one will not keep, on his name.

Those words are reassuring, they are calm,  
and they sound-

so genuine.

She still knows this isn't going to end well for her, but,  
but some of her panic, her dread-

it just leaves.

Crown Prince or not, he is a child, what does he know,  
of honour, of justice, of promises.

And yet, and yet,  
Uboshi doesn't understand what she sees in those eyes,  
that just, make her believe.

The boy gets up slowly and returns with some things.

She sits dumbfounded as he throws a blanket around her shoulders, placing a pair of expensive gloves in her lap.

"Those are the biggest gloves I could find, they might be a bit tight for you,  
but they should do the job."

Uboshi feels warmth sinking into her bruised feet, her cold chest.  
The blanket around her shoulder is comfortable and grounding.

The gloves on her lap might very well be the softest things she's ever touched.

There's something so utterly peaceful in these items, this room.  
Something so peaceful in the flames that surround this boy.

Why is he like this? Why would royalty treat some random stranger with so much respect, so much dignity?

Isn't he royal scum?

The people of the Fire Nation hold no more the love they once used to hold for their royals.  
The royals had betrayed the people of the nation.

Betrayed them all, when they'd stopped listening,  
to their problems, their pleas, their needs.

"Are you still cold? Should I make the flames bigger?" He asks, voice hesitant.

So why is he proving different, why is he listening to her?

Her eyes grow warm as she stares at the gloves on her lap.

Why is he being so understanding?

"I'm fine, thank you very much, your highness." She nods, voice barely a whisper.

"Would you like some tea?"

Uboshi shakes her head, a lump in her throat.  
Why is he so kind?

Why is he giving her hope that,  
that maybe, maybe their nation isn't doomed after all?

"Oh alright. So, could you tell me what's wrong? I'll help you out?" He asks carefully.

Uboshi tries to squash down the dread in her stomach and speaks to the best of her ability,  
this Crown Prince, he doesn't seem unreasonable.

Maybe she can explain what happened, maybe he would understand.

(Oh how she hopes he does.)

If he doesn't, well,  
she doesn't want to think about it.

(Doesn't want to crush the hope in her heart,  
when for so long, she'd had none at all.)

"I'm a servant in the southern courtyard, Uboshi, your highness. Me and another servant, we were being harassed by some of the guards in the southern squadron.  
I-I replied out of turn, I told them to leave us alone and that I would report them to a higher officer if they didn't.

It was not my place to say that, your highness, I beg for forgiveness. They came after me to punish me, and I ran.  
Please forgive me, your highness. I will take any punishment, but please spare my life."   
Uboshi finishes, bowing low, heart thudding away as loud as a hammer.

A sharp slow exhale permeates the room.

"Please, sit up." The Crown Prince speaks, and Uboshi winces at his tone.  
He's upset. She can tell.

Pain fills her chest.  
Oh how she'd hoped.

She rises, but keeps her head down, tears collecting in her eyes.

The little bloom of hope in her chest splutters out.

All this kindness, all for nothing.

"Do not mistake my anger as my displeasure towards you. You are not the one who has my ire. You are not the one who was wrong." The Crown Prince frowns.

Uboshi takes in a startled breath,  
raising her head, barely breathing.

Warm gold eyes meet her own.

"Do not worry, Uboshi. You will have your justice. There is no place for such men in my nation. You have my word." The prince speaks very slowly, clearly.

There is power in those words, there is justice.  
There is a reason to hope.

Something cracks inside her,  
and she sobs in relief, wiping at her eyes.

"Have some patience with me please, sooner or later I will make sure our nation heals. Give me the identities of those men and you may leave.   
Tomorrow, I'll send you out of the palace with adequate supplies. I'll make sure you'll have enough funds so that you may life peacefully,  
wherever you may so wish."

Oh, but how wonderful.  
How wonderful this child is.

It's a miracle.

"No." She speaks.  
The prince looks at her, confused.

This child, the future of their nation.  
He is the hope she has been waiting for.

To think, that such hope would exist in the last place she would've expected to find it.  
In the Royal family, of all places.

"No, please. Let me stay, I will do whatever I can to help you, your highness."

If such a boy, born to such a bloody lineage, can still have such kindness,   
such respect for his people still.  
He can have her loyalty as well.

She believes in him.  
For some reason, she believes in him.

"Are you sure? If you are doing this to repay me let me be clear you owe me no debt."

Uboshi smiles through her teeth and knocks her head into the ground, kneeling.

"Let me serve you, your highness!"

He is quiet for a while, before speaking.

"Tomorrow, servants will be chosen for the eastern courtyard, because my sister dismissed like, fourteen people."

Uboshi looks at him.

"If you are willing, join the candidates as they enter the kitchens, I'll be sure to pick you for my quarters.  
If you think you would be willing to do this, I would like you to be my eyes and ears among the servants and soldiers."

"Yes, of course, your highness. You will have my complete loyalty." Uboshi agrees, voice firm.

He gives her a small smile, and it's quite adorable.

"You don't need to worry about anyone from the southern courtyard, they wouldn't dare search for you here. And if they do, come find me at once."

Uboshi nods.

"And, uh, try to stay away from my sister as much as you can okay, she's a bit touchy. If you do run into her,  
try to bear through her whims, if she does dismiss you, come find me again." He continues, sighing.

Uboshi takes note of his words, they aren't very surprising,  
princess Azula is already known to be quite, volatile.

"I appreciate your help Uboshi, I hope I will be able to prove myself worthy of your loyalty." The Crown Prince speaks, seriously.

Funnily enough, with these words spoken, Uboshi feels he already has.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As usual, I have a ridiculous idea, I write it because why not,  
> and I'm surprised so many people have liked it.
> 
> I thank you all, for all your lovely comments.  
> There is very little that compares to how great it feels to know that something I've created has given someone joy.

**Author's Note:**

> I should not be starting a new fic when I'm literally dying and I have no time.  
> But I have zero self control and here we are.


End file.
